


Dirty Dancing

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Category: Borderlands, borderlands: the pre-sequel
Genre: M/M, alcohol use, tim's a good dancer don't tell anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly tough day on Elpis, Tim finds a way to unwind. Wilhelm appreciates the view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> This is, as per usual for this ship, all [jillus'](http://jillus.tumblr.com) fault. Also NONE of you monsters stopped me from using this title so I feel there's plenty of blame to go around.
> 
> Recommended listening: _Cream on Chrome_ by Ratatat, as it's what I had on repeat while I wrote this. (Also courtesy of jillus and her [Timehelm playlists](http://jillus.tumblr.com/post/142666210222/i-have-two-timhelm-playlists-that-i-listen-to-when).)

Wilhelm drains the last of his beer and signals the B4R-BOT for another. It’s just him and the the doppelganger at Moxxi’s tonight; Athena slipped off earlier, presumably to go see Springs, and Nisha has disappeared to “talk” with their employer. (Wilhelm doesn’t want to know; Nisha’s always a better shot the morning after she and Jack “talk” and that’s all he cares about.)

That just leaves Timothy to drink with. Which is fine. Which  _ would _ be fine, if Timothy hadn’t -

If Timothy hadn’t beat Wilhelm to the bar and slammed back two shots of whiskey without so much as a sputter. If he hadn’t ordered the B4R-BOT to the “keep ‘em coming, I nearly got my face eaten off by kraggons today and I’m trying to burn the memory out of my brain.” And okay, maybe Timothy  _ had _ gotten up close and personal with a surprise fire-spitting moon lizard, but that’s what his teammates were for, to pull his ass out of the fire. Literally, as it happened.

(Wilhelm may have been a  _ little _ over-enthusiastic in unloading his entire clip into the kraggon, but he’s pretty sure no one noticed.)

Wilhelm looks at the empty seat next to him and then up and across the bar to the dance floor. Timothy appears to be doing alright - doing more than alright, if the appreciative looks he’s getting from his fellow dancers are any indication. In the field, Timothy is a bundle of coiled tension, ready to move on a moment’s notice, but here in the dark of Moxxi’s bar with the lights strobing and and the bass thumping he’s loose and fluid, moving with the music in a way Wilhelm wouldn’t have credited him with.

Also, the way he’s moving makes the already close fit of those jeans around his hips positively  _ indecent _ . Wilhelm’s having a hard time looking away.

Wilhelm shifts on the barstool, his own pants suddenly fitting a little less comfortably. He turns back to the now-full beer in front of him, lifts it, then looks at Timothy’s last abandoned shot. Wilhelm’s pretty sure Timothy’s not coming back for it anytime soon. Grunting, he sets the beer aside and downs the shot himself, setting the glass down with a  _ thump _ as the warmth spreads through his veins.

Just as he’s contemplating another - it seems to be working for Timothy - he feels a hand clamp down on his forearm. Wilhelm grabs the offending wrist but manages to not break it when he sees that it’s attached to Timothy, who is looking at him all wide-eyed and guileless.

( _ Wide-eyed and drunk _ , Wilhelm’s brain corrects.)

“Come on,” Timothy says, tugging at Wilhelm’s arm. “Don’t just sit there, Wil, come  _ on _ .”

_ Wil _ , huh? It’s probably that that gets Wilhelm up and off the barstool, letting Timothy tow him across the bar, at least until he sees where Timothy’s heading - “Oh  _ hell  _ no.”

Timothy turns back to him and rolls his eyes, walking backwards up the stairs to the dance floor - which is an impressive feat of dexterity in his condition, Wilhelm will give him that - still tugging Wilhelm after him.

“Oh please. If Roland can get up here so can you.” Timothy nods at the former soldier, who is indeed technically on the dance floor, but he’s safely propped against against a pillar on the edge. Roland catches Wilhelm’s eye and gives him an ironic salute before going back to watching Lilith, who has drawn her own crowd of admirers.

“Come  _ on _ .” Timothy gives one last tug and Wilhelm reluctantly comes up the last step to the dance floor. “You don’t even have to do anything,” Timothy says, looking up at Wilhelm through his lashes. “You can just stand there and let me do all the work.” Wilhelm hears Roland snort, and Wilhelm is pretty sure that the innuendo coming out of Timothy’s mouth has gone right over his head.

(That doesn’t mean that Wilhelm’s not  _ immediately _ thinking about Timothy working himself up and down on Wilhelm’s dick, while Wilhelm holds on to those trim hips and just lets him  _ ride _ .)

Timothy drops Wilhelm’s arm and takes a half step back, already moving to the beat again. His face is attractively flushed, from the alcohol or the dancing or both and it’s - it’s distracting. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, but it manages to look good on Timothy, and oh, Wilhelm’s in trouble.

Wilhelm is pretty sure it’s the alcohol and the music and the post-kraggon adrenaline, but Timothy keeps giving him this  _ look _ , all dark eyes and parted lips. Wilhelm doesn’t want to be something Timothy regrets in the morning, but it’s hard to remember that when Timothy moves in close and ghosts his hands over Wilhelm’s sides, hips still swaying to the beat.

Then the music changes tempo and Timothy closes his eyes and tilts his head back, exposing the long line of his neck, and who is he kidding, Wilhelm is not a good person, he’s not above taking advantage of this, especially when he’s  _ aching  _ to get his hands on Timothy.

So Wilhelm closes his hands around Timothy’s hips and pulls him close, nosing in at the side of that bared neck. He hears Timothy gasp into his ear, then Timothy  _ melts _ against him, going liquid in Wilhelm’s grip. Wilhelm gets a leg in between Timothy’s thighs, and he can feel the groan Timothy makes reverberate against his chest. Wilhelm moves just the tiniest bit with the music - he’s not a  _ dancer _ , but it’s worth it to have Timothy draped all over him - and feels Tim’s whole body  _ shudder _ .

Tim suddenly leans back, and Wilhelm puts one hand on his back to support him before he tumbles himself to the floor. Timothy’s pupils are blown and his hands are fisted in the cloth of Wilhelm’s shirt. He tugs Wilhelm down and meets Wilhelm’s mouth with his own, hot and inviting and  _ perfect.  _ Wilhelm kisses Timothy deep and dirty, letting the music flow over him and the crowd move around them.

Tim nips at Wilhelm’s mouth, all tongue and enthusiasm and Wilhelm moves his hand up to the back of Timothy’s head so Wilhelm can hold him still. Timothy eagerly takes Wilhelm’s tongue in his mouth, sucking in a way that makes Wilhelm dig his fingers into Timothy's side. Those are going to be bruises tomorrow, but Tim doesn't seem to mind right now. He’s panting into Wilhelm's mouth and riding Wilhelm’s thigh like it’s his ticket out of this place, spine rolling and hips doing a dirty grind against Wilhelm’s own.

Wilhelm doesn’t know how long they stay there on the floor, wrapped up in each other; all he knows is that he’s immensely grateful they’ve booked rooms upstairs, that a bedroom and a  _ bed  _ is only a short stumble away. They had booked two rooms, but Wilhelm knows with a certainly they’re only going to be using one tonight.

 

* * *

 

The next morning finds Wilhelm arguing with Moxxi over a refund for the second room.

“Not my fault you didn’t use it, sugar,” she drawls. “Looks like you had a good time though, and isn’t that what counts?”

Wilhelm hears a groan behind him, and turns to see Tim making his way slowly down the stairs. To his credit, he’s only squinting a little, and he brightens when he sees Wilhelm.

“There’s our star,” coos Moxxi, and Timothy gives her a confused look as he makes his way over to Wilhelm’s side. She reaches over the counter to pat Tim’s cheek, who turns adorably pink. “Tell you what,” Moxxi says, looking back at Wilhelm. “Drink sales doubled while you two were out on the floor, so I’ll comp the extra room. You let me know the next time you feel like putting on a show, I’ll charge a cover, and the room’ll be on me. Deal?”

Timothy has turned bright red. “I need to go, uh, somewhere else. Right now. Bye!” He backs up a few steps and then turns and practically flees the bar. Wilhelm turns and looks back at Moxxi, who is looking at him expectantly.

Wilhelm takes her extended hand and shakes it. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
